North versus
South. This ancient conflict has played
out on battlefields and athletic fields
across the span of time. It’s how
some people, Americans included, define
themselves – a southern belle perhaps,
or a damn yankee. The rules of
membership can be rigid – one does not
become a “southern gentleman” by simply
buying a house in Georgia – and the
distinctions can be significant, such as
whether one calls the violent period of
the 1860s the War of Northern Aggression
or the Civil War. Bullets may no longer
fly at Gettysburg, but North v. South is
still an enduring theme here in the land
of purple mountains’ majesty.

While we New
Jersey-ians are an educated, refined and
sophisticated bunch, North v. South is a
subtle force in the Garden State. North
Jersey is a completely different animal
from South Jersey, right? We South
Jerseyians are way hipper than those
northerners from Newark, Paterson,
Rockaway and North Cape May.

North Cape May?
But that’s only across the canal?

And so the
line in the sand is drawn. OK it’s not a
line in the sand and maybe I’m being
dramatic, but if you hang around Cape
May long enough, you’ll find an enduring
riff among the locals as to what exactly
is a “local.” And the Cape May Canal is
one of the dividing lines.

The Cape May Canal
is a man-made, three-and-a-half mile
stretch of water built during wartime to
facilitate the safe flow of maritime
traffic along the Intracoastal Waterway.
But it’s a local landmark that’s become
the Cape May equivalent of the
Mason-Dixon line.

It’s all there in
green and white. A small sign, no more
than one-foot by one-foot, bolted
welded, glued, taped, Velcro-ed and
nailed to the guardrail in the center of
the canal bridge on Seashore Road (Route
162): South Jersey<>North Jersey. One
might think that North Jersey began
somewhere up around, I don’t know, the
Raritan Bay. But it seems that North
Jersey, at least for one or two truly
stubborn locals, begins on the north
side of the Cape May Canal.

“There’s a man in
West Cape May – a real local, born and
raised,” began Peggy Peterson, a native
Cape Mayan who traces her roots in
America to the Mayflower (Peggy was
recently honored by the NJ Society of
Mayflower Descendants but that’s for
another time). Peggy went on to explain
that this gentleman is not exactly fond
of the summer folk who grace us with
their presence every year between
Memorial Day and Labor Day. In fact he’s
so proud of his local roots and his
lifelong residence south of the canal,
he now chastises others who have fled
“north,” even if it’s a mere 100 feet
north of the canal, like Peggy.

“He put that sign
up and the county took it down, so he
put it back up,” said Peggy. “He teases
me that I’m not a native anymore because
I moved north of the canal. Hey, I grew
up down here!”

But Peggy takes
the gentle ribbing for what it’s worth.
She’s a lifelong Cape Mayan who grew up
swimming in, boating on and picnicking
next to the Cape May canal. Now she
enjoys the quiet hum of boat engines
floating off the canal and through her
windows on a warm summer night.

“My father had a
16-footer he kept at Breezy Lee on Ocean
Drive. My mother would pack the picnic
basket and we’d have a picnic lunch on
the edge of the canal. We stayed off the
beaches, there were too many people.”

Completed in
December 1942, the Cape May Canal is
today an integral part of Cape May life.
It connects the Intracoastal Waterway so
boaters don’t have to pass through the
treacherous waters around Cape May Point
and it provides an ideal spot for
fishing, walking the dog or just
watching the boats go by.

“You don’t really
notice the canal most of the time, but
when we sit out on the screened porch,
we can hear the Flamingo or the
Sightseer go down the canal. You can
hear them playing music and here them
giving the talk. We can see the
sailboats too, but just the tops.” My
friend Spanky Concannon tells me that
sailing through the canal is prohibited;
sailboats must be under power and motor
through the canal. It’s OK to let out
the mainsail but the motor has to be
running.

The canal was
built by the Army Corps of Engineers
during WWII so that maritime traffic
wasn’t exposed to German U-Boats that
may have been patrolling near the coast.
Instead of trying to navigate “the rips”
off of Cape May Point, the dangerous
stretch where the Delaware Bay meets the
Atlantic Ocean, boats could slide
through the canal in a fraction of the
time. There’s currently (July 2006) a
neat little traveling exhibit at the
Cape May-Lewes Ferry terminal about Cape
May’s active roll in WWII. The exhibit
is sponsored by the Mid Atlantic Center
for the Arts on Washington Street in
Cape May (capemaymac.org). MAC also runs
a WWII trolley tour that includes the
canal, the famous concrete bunker, Fire
Tower #23 and plenty of hair-raising
stories about Cape May’s coastal
fortifications, German U-Boats and
German troops landing on the beaches of
Cape May. You can also obtain a copy of
Cape May Magazine’s premier
edition for more stories about Cape May
during the war years.

Now, I know what
you’re thinking, what was to stop the
German U-boats from just coming into the
canal themselves? There’s a pronounced
bend near the mouth of the canal that my
friend Skip Hoffman claims was built
into the canal to thwart subs from
entering.

In 1996 sections
of the canal bank were refurbished and a
modular Gabion
system, composed of rocks
encased in wire mesh, were installed to
help prevent erosion. Today the canal is
filled with boaters of every stripe and
fishermen line the banks near the ferry
terminal. The ferry terminal is quite
lovely with a nice restaurant, an
outside bar, shopping and a miniature
golf course (capemaylewesferry.com – I
took the ferry to Lewes for some
tax-free shopping last year. Loved it).

The canal may
provide easy access and some great
fishing spots, but many people take it
for granted. Most of us just accept it
as apart of the landscape.

“It’s something I
take for granted,” said Tom O’Connell, a
Philadelphia boy with a house in Del
Haven. Tom was spending an overcast
Saturday fishing from the rock groin
adjacent to David Douglass Rotary Park,
which is adjacent to the ferry terminal.
“It’s something I drive my boat through
to get to the ocean. Right now I’d just
like something to bite on my line.”

Back in the day,
the canal was a favorite swimming and
sunbathing spot for locals (including
those who lived both north and south of
it) - no beach tags, no crowds no
hassles and no problems.

“When I was
growing up, the bridge was an old wooden
draw bridge. I remember it because when
you drove across it, it went ‘clack
clack clack,’” said Peggy. “My
girlfriends and I would get fishing
poles and sit on the pilings under the
bridge and fish. We never caught
anything but we had a good time.”

And it seems that
swimming across the canal was a test of
one’s courage. “The water was always
calm and clean. It was a big deal to
swim the canal,” said Peggy, “and I can
say I did it.”

There’s a great
deal of boat traffic on the canal these
days (and according to my observations,
many don’t understand the concept of a
“no wake” zone) and there is a current
in the canal. The water is probably not
as squeaky clean as 40 years ago, so
please don’t swim in the canal.

In certain areas,
access to the banks of the canal is
limited. Near the West Cape May bridge,
access is limited to the south side,
where one can park the car at the end of
Bayshore Road (should I be revealing
this?), scamper down the sandy banks and
walk the dog. Knowing the tide schedule
is essential is you intend to do this
and I really don’t recommend it for the
uninitiated.

On the north side,
access is limited to those whose back
yards butt against it. I don’t know
anyone who lives there so I can’t
comment on what it’s like to have the
Cape May canal in your backyard but
judging from the umbrellas and
Adirondack chairs lined up near the
edge, it must be nice. Sigh.

In addition to the
two bridges used by cars there’s a third
bridge. Cape May Seashore Lines operates
a train service between Cape May Court
House and Cape May City that crosses an
old drawbridge just east of
the Rt. 162
bridge. Now I’ve never taken the
Seashore train (capemayseashorelines.org)
but I’ve heard great things about it.
Plus I really like the train bridge.
It’s a drawbridge, but not the kind that
goes up. It swivels around a pivot
point. When not in use, it faces up and
down the canal but when the train needs
to cross it spins on its trellis and
connects. Pretty cool.

According to the
information I could find, and there’s
not a plethora, the canal is 12 feet
deep by about 100 feet wide. Since it is
part of the Intracoastal Waterway, it is
maintained by the U.S. Army Corps of
Engineers. I hope we can trust them to
keep it up nicely. I mean, after all,
their office is in Philadelphia, which
is, you know, north of the canal.